Happy

The beach looked familiar. He just couldn’t remember. Was this Cavendish beach? Wasn’t this where he proposed to her? Had he proposed to her. This was the spot. How many drinks did the locals buy him yesterday when he told them his plan to propose to her today. Too many drinks.

The waves were calm, and mini icebergs floated slowly by, numbered in the thousands within 100 metres from shore, creating a perfect floor to the panoramic view of a March morning on a PEI beach coming to life.

He turned to his left and knew she would be there. He was right and she greeted him a cute smile being guided by happy eyes of mysticism.

“Sleepy Bear,” he affectionately said with a sly smile.

“Hey Baby!” she replied with a happy little body jiggle that was barely visible, except to the trained eye, revealing how happy she was.

‘This feels right. This moment is the greatest moment of my life!’ he thought and he put his hand in his pocket, feeling the small little box beneath his fingers, and how the weight of that little ring inside weighed so heavily on his darkest fear of failure, but was lighter than a balloon on his certainty of success.

She reached over and grabbed his hand, and jumping off in a skip, and pulled him down a path way with a gentle tug.

“Guess what I read today?” she asked in a throaty voice.

He did not even bother to respond. He was just happy to hear the sound of her voice.

“The Canadian Government has invented a new missile,” she said with an inquisitive face, “and they plan on making a lot of money selling it because it’s so special.”

He smirked hearing this. He loved her voice, but she never talked about anything to do with weapons. She had always referred to it as boy conversation. He listened more carefully, but was distracted by what the contents of his left hand held.

“The guidance system is what makes it special,” she purred, flipping her head up to make eye contact, knowing that when she flashed her hair it made him crazy.

“It uses a human brain. It seems a number of subjects were tested upon, with great results for the guidance system, but it ended up killing them. The nanobytes, you see, study the brain, managing to duplicate the thought patterns of the human mind into sophisticated computers. What this article was focusing on is how even though the brains from the test were destroyed, their patterns were still used in their missile guidance systems. It seems the nanobytes have to probe and prod a little bit forcibly to the point that no subject survives; however, it was so successful, the Government started abducting people and using them for their missiles. They ended up making a fortune. This article aims to blow that up and expose the Government."

He thought for a second and then replied, “How would a human brain help a missile?”

She grabbed him and kissed him full on the lips, shrieking while she giggled “You do listen!”

‘Fuck,’ he thought.

“The human conscience is separated between the conscious and the unconscious. The conscious mind was found to have perfect integration with the guidance system, that when separated from subconscious mind, it could be better responding to targeting than a computer. The subconscious mind had to be separated you see in order to make it work.”

“Well,” he asked, “what about the subconscious?”

“They found away to divert it. They have a section of the computer in the guidance system designated to helping the energies of the subconscious focus on the happiest memory ever lived that the living brain recalled at the time of its lethal assimilation. That way it prevents it from interfering with the guidance system because while the conscious mind is using its energies to focus on the right target, the subconscious is in the dream-like state of reliving its happiest memory.”

The clouds were darkening, and drops of rain started to fall on him.

“Come on Sleepy Bear,” he said while turning around and grabbing her hand to guide her to the car, “let’s go grab a magazine and just spend the rest of the day in bed.”

“Oh baby, I would love that very much, but that’s not in the cards today.” She whispered while shaking her mouth with her exaggerated pouty mouth.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You hit your target in less than three seconds.”

Chris Rogers 2012-08-09